SURPRISE

I still surprise you sometimes
by doing things
neither of us thought I would.
You, in particular,
you thought you know
that something I do
without ever thinking
caught you pleasantly
off guard
and
you smiled.
After all these years

- By Anthony Buccino
From ONE MORNING IN JERSEY CITY
A love poem.
Copyright © 2010 by Anthony Buccino, all rights reserved.

OLD MAN UP THE BLOCK

The old man up the street
died – but I don't know
how long ago or why

In fact, I never shook his hand
or learned his name - or about his
family except that he was alone

The last time I spoke with him
was about a year or so ago
about aluminum siding his house

After the summer and siding
I barely spied him around his home
or back at the Dunkin Donuts

He told me he liked dogs but frowned
- when he mentioned the neighbors -
to say he'd never have one here

The kids in their own way remembered
Him as the man who looked like
Good old President Reagan

The kids, they said he looked
Like Ronald Reagan – like the
President lived up the block

The old man up the street died
he lived in a house just like mine
but with aluminum siding now

-- Copyright © 2010 by Anthony Buccino, all rights reserved.
From Retrieving Labrador Days - Dog tales in prose and verse
******************

SHOESTORE WRITER

When I left the shoe store job
after a few months
I got my Saturdays back
And left with a line for the ladies I'd meet
I like your pumps, your stacks, your high heels
It would have been a sure thing
if only I could remember which was which
Because ladies in 1972 never expected
a guy to know the difference in women’s shoes.

I spent a lot of my shoe store pay
On hot dogs from the cart outside
And bought new record albums and played them
when I dreamed of dancing with hot ladies
in their sparkling shoes and sparking spike heels
And I spied on shoes in the Thom McAn up the block
There on Broadway in Newark
you never knew what you'd find
I never thought I saw too much of interest
Except for the big bum who asked me for change
and figured I had some since I wore a stupid tie
Then the ladies came in, some beauties, really,
in both ways you say that.
Like the Gypsy woman wearing
different color shoes on her feet,
And her gorgeous daughter who took our breath away.

Our shoe stretcher in the back was,
really, you know, a broom handle
No shoe numbers on our shoes
in the window, only on the boxes inside.
You want shoe numbers, go to Thom McAn.

I left my shoe store job to push myself to become a writer
I'd do the Famous Writers class
and support myself with freelance writing
Writing about the wild times I never had before
and become a famous writer myself.
Wandering aimlessly, writing down what comes to mind
I'd hone myself, I'd whet my pen,
I'd learn to write and then
Watch out, world. This mild-mannered writer
is seeking a wild-mannered time
Who knows, maybe some day I'll live in tony Greenwich,
or bohemian Greenwich would be more like it...

- By Anthony Buccino
Adapted from CANNED - Booted, bumped, down-sized, fired, forced out, hated, hired, jobless, laid off, let go, out of work, out-sourced, pink-slipped, terminated, sacked, unemployed
Copyright © 2010 by Anthony Buccino
******************

QUANTUM LOOP

Can I leap now?
Al, why haven’t I leaped?
Isn’t my work here done?
What does Ziggy say? Al?
Al? Can you hear me, Al?
Why haven’t I leaped?
Didn’t I do what Ziggy
says I should? Al?
I came years ago
and wrote down what I saw,
what I saw before it changed.
And now I scripted aftermath.
Wasn’t all that why I was here, Al?
Can you ask Ziggy for me?

- By Anthony Buccino
From ONE MORNING IN JERSEY CITY
A post-Sept. 11 poem.
Quantum Leap
Copyright © 2010 by Anthony Buccino, all rights reserved.

SOMETIMES ON THE TRAIN

Sometimes on the train
or wherever,
when you’re reading something,
well, sometimes you don’t
want the ride to end.
Sometimes you want to hear
the chatter of strangers.
Sometimes you just want
to keep on reading
and stay in that magical
world of ink stains
that dried upon some page,
just stay there
on the train.

- By Anthony Buccino
From VOICES ON THE BUS
Copyright © 2010 by Anthony Buccino, all rights reserved.

NEW HERE

Those young men joked
in our evacuation drill
about how they’d tear
down the stairs.
They must be new here.
They thought it was funny.
We queued & stepped
carefully down eight flights
& met at our spot
behind the fence
in the parking lot
while behind us
others checked
the closets & the stalls
& these two guys said if
it were a real emergency
they’d be like
that Seinfield
guy and knock the old
& infirm out of the way
‘til they were safely outside.

But these new guys don’t know
when the towers were twice as high
as the skyline & and then they weren’t.
On this side of the river,
we all got out okay that morning

- By Anthony Buccino
From ONE MORNING IN JERSEY CITY
Copyright © 2010 by Anthony Buccino, all rights reserved. Photos and content may not be used for commercial purposes without written permission.

PEOPLE AT THE RAILING

Seems to be more people
than usual
standing at the railing
staring across the river

Can’t blame them you know
not only a beautiful view
but I know
many of the strangers
who visit here
like me
are looking at the shadow
of things that used to be.

Four years doesn’t make
the sadness go away
or the memory disappear.
We all still see
what used to be,
there, across the river.

As sure as Christmas
comes in December
And Easter in the spring
Every sunny September
we’ll remember that day.

Some might think
it sacrilegious
to carry on, and others
say it’s sacrilege not to.
For all who stare
across the sea, I see
the tall shadows
wash over you

- By Anthony Buccino
From ONE MORNING IN JERSEY CITY

Copyright © 2010 by Anthony Buccino, all rights reserved. Photos and content may not be used for commercial purposes without written permission.

Forget-Me-Not
An Unordinary Day
******************

A FOLLOWING BLUE BEAM

In my back yard a blue beam
streaks to the sky
and ends at a glowing star

The light starts below the tree line
somewhere distant and fades away
swallowed by the summer night sky

We walk on into the evening
watching uneven sidewalks
and curbs hidden in the dark
eyes on the ground ahead
forgetting completely the beam
for the moment at hand
and then a breeze or something
stirs us to look up again
between the neighbors’ trees
and we see again that light
twelve miles away
lighting someone else’s way
from here to eternity
forever etched in someone’s mind
the heart wound never healed
the motherless child, the childless mother
and others whose heart song
is carried by a following blue
beam streaking into the sky

- By Anthony Buccino
From ONE MORNING IN JERSEY CITY
Copyright © 2010 by Anthony Buccino, all rights reserved. Photos and content may not be used for commercial purposes without written permission.
An Unordinary Day
******************